


Showtime, baby

by liveonmars



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Lovers, Love/Hate, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveonmars/pseuds/liveonmars
Summary: College/University AU in which Harry is rich and can't stay away from trouble, and Louis is a student with a strong hatred for people like Harry.Or maybe, Louis is way too fast to judge and nothing's as it seems.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Showtime, baby

**Author's Note:**

> hi! if you're reading this, thanks for reading my book!
> 
> just a few things before i leave you to that, i'll be real quick :)  
> i'm gonna try my best writing this, but in the case you see a mistake or something that doesn't make sense, keep in mind english isn't my first language and please let me know so i can fix it and learn.  
> also, in the book you'll soon realize Harry's last name isn't Styles, you're gonna find out why later on the story - and Harry's family members have different names than the real ones. that's simply because the way i describe them and they act here is not a reflection of them in real life. 
> 
> hope this doesn't bother you too much! x

"Harry Edwards?"

The room is small, with an old table that serves as a desk in the middle and the plaster on the walls looks stained with gray and black. The color of the chair on which he sits  
tends to a very dark purple, while the one on the other side of the desk has a faded bottle green color. It's almost disturbing, the way the forniture appears to have been chosen with the solely motivation to make it all the least harmonc and appealing to the eye - let's be honest, it's a fucking eyesore.

The only window in there - looks like it has never been opened by the way, judging from the webs on it - is too small to allow some sort of ventilation, and that explains the humidity and the mold all over the walls (and on the cracks on the corners).

Harry leans his head on the back of the seat, before taking a deep breath. He's attractive, it's quite impossible to deny it. And he knows too damn well he is, how would he not. His dark curls fall softly on his forhead, framing his face like a fucking disney prince, while he moves his head to the rythm of the song playing on the old radio near the door. He's looking around the room, his jade green eyes widen every time something catches his attention. It's mostly useless stuff to kill some time, like an hedgehog shaped pen holder or a stapler - or even a butterfly collection kept in a glass case and hung on the wall.

Harry gets up from his chair, walks up to it and slides a finger on the cold glass, while reading the names and descriptions of the different species.

"Don't touch it!" The man - he's a cop, for sure - scolds him, hands on his waist and furrowed eyebrows. He looks straight out of a cartoon for kids. It's hard to feel threatened by someone who looks like a squirrel and a cowboy had a kid.

Harry turns around, facing the man with the biggest grin on his face, while looking at him up and down. He may not have a lot of hair, but compensates with the thickest mustache the young one has ever seen, that hides most of his upper lip. Harry feels phisically sick when, licking his own lips, the cop moves the hairs on the sides, like fucking theatre curtains opening. But make it wet theatre curtains.

"I'm quite sure this one's a protected species, right? Like, an endangered one if I'm not mistaken" Harry points out, showing him a specific butterfly, a brown one whose mix of colors look like an owl's eye. There's a small label over it that says 'Caligo Memnon'.

He has no idea how to pronounce that, of course. And why would he?

"W-what? I didn't kn-" 

"Woah, calm down dude. I was just messig with you" Harry laughs, but his mind is completely absorbed in trying to understand why someone would be that proud of a fucking butterly collection to hang it on a wall for everyone to see. "Did you kill them?"

The cop takes a deep breath, before placing both his elbows on the desk and smiling proudly, getting ready to answer that question. It's almost like he was waiting on someone to let him talk about something he's so passionate about. How cute.

"Not all of them, to be honest, just a few" He admits. "It's a really delicate process, you know? The butterfly needs to be let in a humid spot to dry, and then softened using a-" Harry feels a shiver run down his spine, and immediately takes his hand off the glass case. His arm falls down by his side. "It's disgusting" It's all Harry spits out, before turning around and looking at the man, with an amused grin on his face. The cop is now facing his desk, looking through a big pile of papers. Harry can't see his whole face from where he's standing, but he knows he's hurt. And it's kinda amusing.

"Sit"

Harry rolls his eyes before following the cop's order and sitting on the purple chair again. He's tired of being nice, he just wants to go home and it doesn't look like it's gonna happen any time soon. Might as well make it worth it.

"Look," He says, stretching his neck to read the name on his tag "Arlo" - He tries to hold back a laugh, but fails miserably. 

"You're in no position to make fun of anyone, you know that, right?" 

Harry ignores him. He know his position very well, thank you very much. Does this stop him from being a pain in the ass? No. "Why did your parents give you that name?" He asks, looking straight into Arlo's eyes.

"Did it ever cross your mind that maybe they hate you?

Arlo sighs. Not only he is tired, but he's also losing his temper. He's never in his whole life met someone as irritating as the guy standing in front of him. He truly hopes he never does - otherwise he could start planning his first murder. Tecnically, going to jail wouldn't be much worse than his current job.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do now" The cop says, reminding Harry that he's not actually there to make the man's life miserable. He had almost forgotten the real reason behind all this.

"What are we going to do now, Arl?

"Don't do that ever again, young man. I mean, don't call me that way ever again" He says icily. "You're either paying for the damage or facing the consequences. Your choice"

Harry stares at him, his sharp eyes capturing every single detail and change of expression on the cop's face. He would fucking love to punch him, but he knows it wouldn't benefit him one bit, so he tries to relax.

But then again, why does he always have to think about the consequences of his actions? Maybe a fist, just one, just to make sure he never makes that satisfied face ever again.

"Are you kidnapping me?" He asks, after deciding not to hit the cop and putting an end to his inner struggle. 

It doesn't come out as annoyingly as he wanted it to, but it's okay. Arlo doesn't say anything back, and under that fake smile Harry is so fucking tired - he just wants to get in the shower and wash away the dust of the room he's in.

"Soo... How much is the fine then?" He then asks. He's not even grinning anymore. 

"Well, you vandalized a private property, the fine wouldn't be less than ninehundred pounds"

"Ninehundred? Arlo, dude, do you know who my parents are?" Harry tries, slamming the palm of his hands on the desk, and getting closer to Arlo's face.

"Are you threatening me?"

Harry sighs. "Is it working?" He asks before letting himself fall on the chair, eyes staring at the clock on the wall. It's almost five AM, and he hasn't slept since the night before. He's spent the whole night at the police station, most of the time sleeping on an hard chair while waiting for his turn to speak with this... this mess of a cop. He really needs a coffee.

"Look, Arl, I don't happen to have ninehundred pounds with me at the moment" He decides to say. That's the most honest he's ever been since stepping into this dirty and old office. He should at least appreciate that.

But Arlo's mood changes within seconds, after hearing what Harry had to say. He looks... victorious? He's about to say something he really really can't wait to say.

And, just as Harry thought "Can't you call your parents? Or are the King and the Queen of England busy at the moment?" He asks, barely holding his laugh back.

How is that a good comeback?

Is punching him socially accepted at this point?"

"Arlo, tell me the fucking alternative" Harry snaps, getting once again closer to the other man's face. This time the reaction is different, though. Arlo stops laughing and proceeds to look for a paper in the pile. Was raising his voice enough to scare a cop? Or is he just as tired as him?

"Uhm, let's see... community service"

Harry laughs. "Community service? Nothing else?"

"Nope"

"I don't know... juvie?"

"You're almost 23 years old"

Harry nods. "Death penalty?" He tries, again.

"God knows how much i wish that"

"That was harsh, Arl" He says. "So, to be a little more specific... I'm gonna help old ladies cross the road?"

"Not exactly" 


End file.
